Wind Off The Ocean
by Bohemian Storm
Summary: Spike has a chance meeting with a cocky would-be slayer and becomes deeply enthralled by her, but Buffy's not very happy and she'll do anything to keep the new girl out of her territory.
1. Chapter 1

Wind off the Ocean  
  
Night was falling over Sunnydale, trees casting long shadows across the gravestones and the sun sinking gently behind the buildings. The vampires were becoming restless, stirring in their underground homes, waiting to come out and spend the night feeding. As he waited, Spike paced his own crypt, staring out the small window and waiting for the sun to set. He was wearing nothing but his black jeans, his other clothes drying on the empty tomb that he usually slept on.   
  
He stopped, opened the tiny fridge he had hiding behind the tomb and pushed things aside. Empty beer cans clattered to the floor as he searched, finally pulling out a half empty carton of cold blood. Sloshing it around in the carton, Spike groaned and shuddered inwardly, then pulled off the lid and let himself slip into the face of a monster. He gulped down as much blood as he could in one mouthful, hating the slick, cold feeling of it sliding down his throat. He missed feeding. He took in another mouthful, then dropped the container and closed the fridge door. Under the sound of the carton clattering to the floor he barely heard the footsteps outside his crypt . . . but he still heard them.  
  
Spike paused, standing absolutely still and waited for another step. It could be Buffy outside his door, but the way it sounded, whoever was out there had tried to sneak up on him. The slayer generally didn't do that, especially with the way things had been lately.   
  
So he waited, not making the slightest movement that would take his focus off the noises outside, not even letting his face return to normal. Finally he was reward with the barely audible scrape of a shoe on stone. He tensed, knowing the person was about the attack, feeling the change in the air around him. He could smell her, knowing through her scent that it was a young woman, knowing that she was high on adrenaline, yet completely calm at the same time. He didn't understand how a normal person could be so calm outside the lair of a vampire. Her scent told him everything, she was a tall girl, dark hair, blue eyes, strong arms.  
  
The air vibrated as she pressed her palm against the door outside and Spike knew in an instant. He could feel the strength and power in that simple movement and knew who she was. She was a slayer, and suddenly, Spike was hungry.  
  
The door flew open seconds later, revealing to him a tall silhouette. In the instant before she attacked him, Spike saw the flash of hunger in her blue eyes and he knew that she craved this fight as much as he did. The only problem with that was that he couldn't fight back.  
  
Her foot caught the side of his head and Spike went down hard, his hands slamming into the dirt on the floor. She hauled him back to his feet and aimed an angry punch at his midsection. Unable to block her, Spike tried to twist away but her fist slammed into him anyway and pain flared through his chest.  
  
"Christ, woman!" He huffed, pressing his hands against the tender spot on his chest. "I can't fight back, give it a rest."  
  
She stared at him, pushed the back the bandana that was keeping her short hair off her face and smiled. "Makes the fight less interesting, doesn't it?"  
  
He nodded. "Yeah, makes it a little less fun." His face returned to that of a human. "Where do you get your information anyhow pet? I can't bite people - I get to live."  
  
She cocked her head, "What are you; neutered?"  
  
Spike suppressed the grimace and angry words. "I suppose you could put it that way."  
  
"But you're still a bloodsucker?"  
  
"More blood than sucker I'm afraid."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "I meant you're still a vamp?"  
  
"You saw my face pet; take a guess."  
  
Her gaze hardened. "Then I'll guess it doesn't matter whether or not you can still feed, my job description is a simple one. Vampire Slayer."  
  
"Already got one of those in Sunnyhell, might as well turn back now." Spike rubbed his chest and was relieved to find the pain gone.  
  
"Not that easy." She growled at him, flipping a stake out of nowhere. She twirled it effortlessly through her fingers, then grinned. "Wanna dance?"  
  
Spike could barely hide the glee that was building inside of him. He hadn't met one this cocky since Buffy and he could hardly fight her anymore. He knew he'd have a headache that would last for weeks after this, but it was worth it.  
  
He stepped closer to her, noting with pleasure that she was just as tall as he was. "Let's dance." Spike hissed.  
  
She swung at his head, he blocked her fist easily, but her other one came out of nowhere. Her left hand rammed into his jaw, then her right slammed into his stomach. She backed off for a brief second, then spun into a roundhouse kick that knocked him off his feet.   
  
She was too fast for him, he couldn't handle her with the chip in his head.  
  
A moment later she was straddling him, staring at him, her sapphire eyes boring into his. In one hand she held the stake, the other was pinning his arm down to the floor.  
  
"That wasn't too hard." She sneered. "Giving up already?"  
  
Spike leaned close. "Hardly sweetie. Just taking a break."  
  
" You need a breather already? I haven't even broken a sweat."  
  
"I can fix that." Spike was off the floor in a second, throwing the slayer to the ground. Her back slammed against the stone and the breath whooshed from her lungs immediately. Still struggling to catch her breath, she too was on her feet, staring down the vampire. She gasped for air, finally catching it in her lungs and attacked once more.  
  
Spike matched her punches and kicks, move for move. When she attacked, he blocked her with ease and found that blocking her blows didn't hurt as much as attacking. His head flared with pain on occasion but it wasn't as blinding as it used to be. Spike briefly toyed with the thought that the chip was beginning to malfunction, then tossed it away as a sliver of pain seared through his left temple.  
  
He noticed, as he blocked her moves that she was beginning to breathe harder and he had, in fact, fixed her complaint about not even breaking a sweat. A bead trickled into her eye and she squinted, raining another blow onto Spike's forearms. He studied her, taking the time as she wore down to really look at her for the first time. She was well toned, muscular and slim and wearing clothes like she had just been at the gym. Her sweats were loose and baggy, as was the sweat shirt she was wearing over a tight, midriff top.  
  
Hoping to embarrass her, Spike asked,"You always dress like that to work out pet?" gesturing to the zipper on the sweatshirt that had come undone, revealing her shirt.   
  
The slayer nodded, tossing the sweatshirt aside. "Easier to move around in than a baggy tee shirt."  
  
Spike grinned, admiring her ability to toss his comments aside as easily as her shirt. "So, if that's under the sweatshirt, then what's under those pants?"  
  
She swept her legs under his feet, forcing him to the ground for the third time in five minutes and leapt onto him again. Smiling sweetly, she answered, "Don't you wish you knew?"  
  
He grinned back. "Been wishing it since you walked in here."  
  
The hand with the stake hovered above him and she lowered it slowly, gently trailing it back and forth across his chest. The pointed tip pressed into him enough to hurt, but not enough to draw blood. She wasn't watching the stake though, she was staring Spike down, waiting for him to show submission to her.  
  
"What are you waiting for slayer?" He asked. "Want me to be your bitch?"  
  
Her eyes lit up with a pleasure he hadn't seen since she'd burst in on him.  
  
"Blood unlikely." He spat at her.  
  
"C'mon," she leaned toward his ear and continued to drag the stake across his chest. "Beg for it."  
  
Spike pulled the last trick he had and bucked his hips slightly, giving him enough room to flip her over. The arm with the stake was pinned beneath one of his legs and she glared angrily at him.   
  
He smiled, then put on a sad face and whined, "Please."  
  
"Screw you." She snarled.  
  
"If only." He replied.  
  
They remained this way, slayer pinned beneath vampire, glaring at each other with contempt and something else in both their eyes. Spike shifted uncomfortably when he realized what that something else was. He was attracted to her. He was looking at her in a way he hadn't looked at anyone for a very long time. He thought he loved Buffy but he felt some kind of primal attraction being this close to another woman. He wanted her and he knew she wanted him.  
  
"This is sick." She breathed, freeing her arm from under his leg and tossing her stake aside.  
  
"Tell me about it." He replied.  
  
"I should have killed you when I had the chance." Her arms stretched toward him and suddenly Spike wasn't sure if she was reaching to take him or to kill him. He grabbed her wrists from the air and slammed them back against the floor, holding them there. They locked eyes again and neither could look away.  
  
The door to the crypt scraped against stone as someone pushed it the rest of the way open.  
  
"Spike?" Buffy walked into the one room 'apartment' and surveyed the scene before her. She paused, and frowned, her forehead creasing in confusion.  
  
Spike mentally kicked himself, knowing how bad the situation must look to her. He was half naked, straddling a sweaty young woman on the floor, her arms pinned above her and he was staring into her eyes like he had been just two seconds away from kissing her . . . had he been just two seconds away from kissing her? He didn't know, but it didn't really matter.  
  
"Buffy, pet . . ." he leapt up, "can't you keep the local slayer's club informed on which vampires not to try to murder?" He asked, forcing as much anger into his voice as possible. It was easier to make it seem like he hadn't wanted to be in that situation.  
  
"What?" Buffy turned to the woman on the floor. "Who are you?"  
  
"Avery Kline." She answered, getting up and brushing herself off. "You know William the Bloody here?"  
  
Spike turned to her in shock. She had known who he was and still she had gone into battle against him. His shock turned to admiration, the girl had guts, he had to give her that much.  
  
"Yeah," Buffy answered cautiously, "I know him. But I still don't know who you are."  
  
"Well, it's not like I expected you to know the name." Avery answered, picking up her sweatshirt and dusting the dirt off it.  
  
Buffy looked up her and down. "Do you always dress like that?"  
  
"To work out, yeah." Avery shook her head. "What's with everyone and this shirt?" She murmured, shrugging her shoulders back into the sweatshirt. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, but all I wanted was to get myself in a good kill before I settled down for the night."  
  
"You don't look too settled." Buffy commented.  
  
"Didn't get my kill, did I?"  
  
Spike was mesmerized as Buffy and Avery spoke to each other. Buffy was famous for what she did, especially if Avery was another slayer. She'd know who Buffy was, another slayer had never lasted as long as she had so far. Yet, even if she did know who Buffy was, Avery was talking to her like she was just another ignorant human, wasn't showing her the respect Spike would have expected from another slayer.  
  
"You're Buffy, right?" Avery asked.  
  
"Yeah . . . why?"  
  
"I'm a slayer." She answered. "Slayer in training actually, I was sent here."  
  
"By who?" Buffy asked.  
  
"By the mothership." Avery replied. "The Council."  
  
"I don't work for the Council any-"  
  
"As of Glorificus you told them you were back on board." Avery paused. "Or did you forget that little bitty piece of information that you died for? They helped you save the world and in return you work for them again."  
  
"I died. I think that breaks the contract."  
  
"You're not dead anymore, at least, not as far as I can see." Avery turned to Spike. "You see her too, right vampire?"  
  
He nodded slowly, wondering if this woman knew what she was getting herself into.  
  
"Why would the Council send you here to train?" Buffy asked.  
  
"They sent me to the best," Avery answered, "with Faith in jail, they're not too impressed and looking to settle some old scores with her. She'll be getting out soon you know."  
  
"She's a murderer."  
  
"She was a minor." Avery reminded her. "Plus take off some time for good behaviour and whatnot, she'll make her parole no problem. I can guarantee she'll be walking in the next year . . . of course, outside of those walls, she won't last a day."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I told you, the Council's looking to settle the score. You take a life as a slayer, you give one back."  
  
"They'll kill her?"  
  
Avery shrugged. "I don't know that much about it. They might kill her, they might just take her into custody and make her do the time they think she deserves. I never thought to ask."  
  
"And you're training to take her place?"  
  
"That's the basic deal. With you and your 'oh-so-mighty' attitude, they feel they need a go-between for the Council and the supernatural world out there." Avery held down a snotty grin. "They call those go-betweens the real slayers."  
  
Buffy and Avery stared each other down for a long moment, one slayer with simmering anger and the other with a smug knowledge that she could talk down to anyone she wanted and get away with it. Spike marvelled at her and the thought briefly crossed his mind how much she reminded him of Faith.   
  
"What did you mean, they sent you to the best?"  
  
Avery looked at her. "I mean, they sent me to train with the best. How else can you take it?"  
  
"They think I'm the best person to train you?"  
  
Avery paused. "Well . . . no. They sent me here to train with Rupert Giles. He's the man behind the slayer."  
  
Buffy's face fell momentarily and Spike watched in awe and Avery's own face softened.  
  
"What? Did something happen?"  
  
"He left." Buffy stated. "Went back to England. He thinks he's holding me back."  
  
"A slayer can only learn so much from their watcher before they have to experience life on their own. They're like your parents; they can't always be there."  
  
"That's smart." Buffy murmured, resignation in her voice. "What happened to the tough girl act?"  
  
"It's not an act." Avery shrugged without smiling. "But who says tough girls don't have hearts?"  
  
Silence spread through the mausoleum, both slayers looking at each other, expressionless. Spike stood alone, still enthralled with the two women that stood before him, their interaction the most amazing thing he'd seen in so long.  
  
"If Mr. Giles is gone, I guess there's only one thing to do." Avery finally said.  
  
"He doesn't want to be a watcher anymore." Buffy told her. "You can follow him to England if you want, but-"  
  
"I'm not going to England." Avery said. "They wanted me to train with the best and if the best doesn't want to, then his student will probably do just fine. The best can only make better, right?"  
  
Buffy nodded slowly. "Right. Okay, I'll do it. We-uh, we train in the back room of a magic shop on fourth avenue. It's called the Magick Box and the address is in the phone book. I'm sure Spike can give you directions. Tomorrow?"  
  
"Tomorrow sounds good. Say nine?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Nine is it. That gives me time to . . . well, never mind. I'll see you then." She shot one final glare in Spike's direction, giving him all the evidence he needed that Buffy hadn't believed his story, then she left, closing the door behind her.  
  
Avery turned away and went in search of her stake, ignoring the fact that she was still in Spike's crypt and ignoring the fact that he was still staring at her. She finally found the long piece of wood and tucked it into her pants, then glanced at the vampire.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
She shrugged. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"  
  
"Do you have any idea how long I've worked to get that girl to trust me? And then you just come barging in here with your stake and all your threats and your fake tough girl look and ruin everything."  
  
Avery's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? The only thing I found when I came in here was a neutered vampire just waiting to be put to sleep. I thought you would make for a hell of a fight vampire but you did nothing for me. Nothing. I came here because of the reputation you've build for yourself, but all I found was a lovesick puppy. You're not a vampire anymore, you're nothing but a human."  
  
Spike trembled with anger. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"  
  
"Yeah, a washed up vampire who has nothing to do but remember his glory days." Avery looked him up and down. "And I thought that didn't happen to vampires."  
  
"You better listen to me you little bitch and you better listen good. I'm going to get this chip out of my head, don't doubt that, and when I do; you and me are gonna dance. Really dance."  
  
"Funny, the way it seems to me, that's probably the same thing you said to Buffy before falling head over heels in love with her."  
  
Spike didn't have a response for her, he just turned away and yanked a pair of socks over his bare feet. He pulled a tee shirt over his head, then slammed into his boot and threw on his duster. When he turned back, Avery was still standing there, watching him with an amused smile on her face.  
  
"What the f-"  
  
She interrupted him and surprised him with, "You're cute, y'know that?"   
  
"Uh . . ."  
  
"Wanna help me find that kill I'm craving?"  
  
A stunned smile crossed Spike's face. "Why not pet? I'm up for a little action." 


	2. Chapter 2

Avery watched as Buffy finished her training, pummelling the punching bag, then followed her instructions. She was dripping with sweat, breathing hard and she knew she hadn't felt this alive in a long time. Buffy was a good trainer, Giles had done his job well. The only problem Avery was finding was that the slayer almost refused to speak to her.  
  
Finished the exercise Avery grabbed a towel and threw it over her back. "What's the deal here?"  
  
Buffy glanced at her. "What?"  
  
"What is your issue? You can't train me without speaking to me." Avery put her hands on her hips. "Are you pissed because you found me trying to murder your honey last night?"  
  
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Let's get two things straight here. Number one; I'm pissed because last night I walked in on slayer's fun hour with my honey. And number two; Spike is not my honey. I'm training you because the Council sent you. No other reason." She stared the other girl down for a moment longer, then disappeared into the front of the magic shop.  
  
Avery rolled her eyes and towelled dry, then grabbed her bag and followed the path Buffy had taken. The shop was mostly empty except for Buffy's friends Xander, Willow and Anya. Buffy's sister was sitting at a table away from the others. When she walked through them, Willow smiled at her encouragingly while all the others either glared at her, or glanced away. Avery knew the only reason Willow cared was because she was still hurting over the loss of her girlfriend, Spike had told her the night before. It seemed to Willow right now that everyone needed a little affection, especially a stranger in town.  
  
Avery tossed a smile back in Willow's direction, then left the store and the vicious, whispered comments behind.  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
That night Spike found Avery sitting alone on a headstone near the front of the cemetery. She was wearing jeans and a tank top with a black leather duster over it, looking just as nice as Spike thought she looked the night before. She twirled a stake through her fingers, waiting for a reason to use it.  
  
"Hi there pet." He said, coming up beside her.  
  
She glanced up. "Hey vampire. You guys are kinda quiet tonight."  
  
"I wish you wouldn't call me vampire." He murmured.  
  
"I wish you wouldn't call me pet."  
  
"It's a pet name."  
  
"So's vampire."  
  
Spike laughed. "Fine. Avery. Better?  
  
"Much, thanks vampire."  
  
"I thought you said you wouldn't call me that."  
  
"No, I said I wished you didn't call me pet, but I know that won't stop you." She smiled at him. "I know your kind Spike, you don't give a damn about anyone else."  
  
"Not true at all." He replied. "I care about lots of people."  
  
"Like who?" Avery asked. "Out of all the people in the world, who would hurt you the most by saying 'you're a loser Spike' when you couldn't give a damn what most people think?"  
  
He thought for a long moment, perched himself beside her on the headstone and sighed. "Buffy said it to me once, I nearly cried."  
  
"Right."  
  
"I did." He said defensively. "I have feelings y'know."  
  
"Tears of blood?" She asked.  
  
"That's a myth." He told her. "But really. I asked her to dance; not literally of course, we were talking about death and I told her that all slayers have a death wish."  
  
"We do. Otherwise we wouldn't be called." Avery said, staring at the sky.  
  
"I told her life is a dance, death is a dance and asked if she'd dance with me. She told me I was beneath her."  
  
Avery was silent for a long moment. "So, when I asked you to dance last night . . ."  
  
"It was the kind of invitation I've been waiting for all my life."  
  
She smiled gently. "That's kinda sweet in a really sick, masochistic way."  
  
"Life is sick." Spike said. "We're all sick, whether we want to admit it or not. She won't, or she can't. One of the two." He paused. "I really thought I was in love with her."  
  
"You're not?"  
  
"I . . . I'm not sure anymore. It's bizarre, isn't it?"  
  
"What is?" Avery asked.  
  
"How you can be told you don't have a soul a million times over and yet, when it comes down to it, we don't all believe it."  
  
"You have a soul?"  
  
"Always have. At least, that's what I believe. What else let me feel love and passion? What could let me feel jealousy and anger? Most vampires kill because they have to, I killed because I enjoyed it."  
  
"And because you enjoyed bringing death to everyone you met, that makes it true that you have a soul?" Avery glanced at him. "I don't follow."  
  
"Men who have souls kill every day. They rape, they hurt children and they beat their wives. There are some bloody sick men out there that have souls and no one argues that. No one says they've lost their souls, that's why they do it. But without a soul, you can't feel emotions, you lose them. The myth has always been that emotions are heightened when you're a monster, but they're not. They're lost." He paused, biting his lip. "Take any vampire that has been feared at any time. They're feared because they enjoy the thrill of stalking and killing people. They feel. Without a soul, those things are lost."  
  
Avery nodded. "I think I follow." She smiled. "But this, us talking, this is still totally sick, you know that right?"  
  
Spike smiled back. "Disgusting. We deserve to be shot. Course it wouldn't do much to me, but it might hurt you a bit." He sighed. "Why is it so easy to talk to a girl who wanted to either stake me or jump my bones yesterday?"  
  
She rolled her eyes, something Spike found her doing a lot. "I did not want to jump your bones. That is such an exaggeration. Like I said, you're pathetic."  
  
"It's a defence mechanism, isn't it?" He asked.  
  
"What is?"  
  
"The eye rolling, the bitchy comments." Spike peered at her. "You don't want anyone getting close because it scares you."  
  
"Screw you." Avery growled, becoming angry at him.  
  
"As I said yesterday, anytime."  
  
She just glared at him and turned away. "You're just like every other bloodsucker."  
  
Spike's voice softened, slightly hurt, "Believe me Avery, I have a soul."  
  
She gently twisted the stake between her fingers. "If I didn't believe you, you'd already be dead."  
  
The both fell silent, the night quiet and peaceful around them. Crickets chirped in the brush nearby, but it was the only noise that broke the still of the night. Spike could feel the headstone under him warmed slightly by Avery's body heat and he smiled. Thinking of her, he began to watch her from the corner of his eye. Moonlight shone through the trees, picking out sparkling red highlights in her hair that Spike had never noticed before. As he watched she began to subconsciously twirl the ring she wore on her right hand and twist the stake between her fingers.  
  
"Quit looking at me." She said quietly.  
  
"Sorry." Spike glanced away, hoping to break his obsessive need to study her, but her scent remained. It circled him, clinging to the inside of his nostrils. She smelled amazingly feminine with an underlying scent of masculine strength. Spike could detect the remains of raspberry shampoo and under that, her real scent. Everyone was different, Spike had always compared it to a finger print, and Avery was no exception. Hers was slightly sweet, smelling a bit like flowers, mixed with the clean, fresh scent that came in with a wind off the ocean. Spike inhaled deeply, concentrating on her true scent.  
  
"What are you doing now vampire?"  
  
Her voice startled him and he jerked back into reality. "Uh, smelling you." He was so surprised by her question that the truth came out immediately.  
  
Avery frowned. "What? You were smelling me?"  
  
"No." Spike answered promptly.   
  
"You were too. Sick." She turned away, still frowning. "I mean, how would you like it if I smelled you?" Without giving him a chance to answer she leaned into his shoulder and inhaled sharply. Her scent rushed around Spike, making him dizzy. Her breath on his throat make him shiver with pleasure and Avery abruptly moved away.  
  
"Okay, you smell like . . . well, kinda like soap and I have no idea how that happened since I know your crypt has no running water." She paused. "Yeah, definitely soap and a little bit of whiskey . . . kind of a spicy smell." She shrugged, suddenly embarrassed.  
  
Spike closed his eyes. "You smell like the wind. The last time I smelled anything like you was sixty three years ago. I was standing on this bluff on the Atlantic ocean and the wind was blowing in my face. It smelled like salt and flowers." His eyes opened. "It was an amazing smell." He turned to Avery to find her glaring angrily at him.  
  
"What are you doing?" She asked.  
  
Spike struggled for words to answer her accusation and found none.  
  
She shook her head angrily. "All I wanted was to come and talk after a hell of a day and instead I get this."  
  
"Get what?" Spike asked incredulously. He could feel his anger beginning to boil. It astounded him how his girl could turn him on one second and make him want to kill her the next.  
  
"I don't need this." She said, hopping off the headstone and standing in front of him. "I spent all day with Buffy and her pals. I don't know what their deal is, but they all seem to hate me."  
  
"Could be they just figure out what a bitch you are."  
  
"I don't need this." Avery repeated, then turned and stalked down the row of headstones.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Spike called after her. He watched as she raised one hand above her head and gave him the finger.  
  
"Oh, you stupid bint." He growled under his breath, then launched himself off the headstone.  
  
Spike flew after Avery and slammed into her from behind, causing them both to tumble to the ground.  
  
"Don't ever flip me off." He hissed, pushing her hard into the ground.  
  
Avery sneered at him and swung at him, barely missing his jaw. Spike's resolve snapped and he pulled back his fist, knowing he shouldn't do it, knowing his head would scream. He hit her in the jaw, causing her head to snap back.  
  
"Ow, you stupid jerk," she put her hand to her mouth, which had begun to trickle blood as Spike lay on the ground, curled into a ball.  
  
"Bloody hell." He moaned, clutching his head The pain was searing, blinding and hot. It burned through his temples and down into his sinuses, causing him to grab his nose and twist it, trying to make the pain stop.  
  
Avery leaned over. "Spike?" She gently pushed at his shoulder, rolling him over.  
  
He was breathing heavily, his hands still covering his face.  
  
"Look, you just punched me," she said, "you can't be serious!" When he didn't reply Avery leaned over him and gently touched his face. "Spike?" Her forehead creased in concern. She brushed his temple, pulled one of his hands from his face.  
  
"I'm okay." He breathed suddenly. His face contorted in pain when he sat up, but he managed. Rubbing both temples Spike sighed, then glanced at Avery. He saw the blood slipping out the side of her mouth and down her chin and suddenly his stomach growled.  
  
"What happened?" She asked.  
  
"There's a chip in my head, that's why I can't hurt people. It gives me a hell of a headache." He paused, looking at her. "I'm sorry I hit you."  
  
Avery shrugged it off. "Good, you should be."  
  
His eyes followed the new drop of blood that squeezed itself out the side of her mouth. It made a fresh trail down her chin and Spike swallowed hard, his stomach rumbling again. Without saying anything, he leaned forward and touched the clean side of her face gently. Avery looked startled for a moment, then relaxed as his fingers danced over her skin, cupping her face. His other hand reached out and he placed his thumb near the drop of blood, pressing into her skin and moving upward, cleaning the blood off her face.  
  
"All clean." He murmured, wiping off her face gently.  
  
Avery smiled. "Thanks."  
  
Without thinking Spike placed his thumb in his mouth and began to lick at the blood he had removed from her face. Avery's eyes widened in horror and she backed away slightly. Spike paused, then realized what he had done and pulled his hand from his mouth.  
  
"Avery, it was just a natural reaction."  
  
Eyes still wide, the slayer in training stood up slowly. She glanced at him one more time, then turned and vaulted over a headstone and disappeared into the dark.  
  
Spike groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "Stupid." 


	3. Chapter 3

Avery was walking alone, her eyes searching blindly for a place to sleep for the night. She had no where to go, even though none of them knew it. She stashed her bag, packed with her meagre belongings, in an empty building during the day. Her workout clothes, a summer dress and jacket and what she was wearing now was all she had.  
  
She found nothing as went, no empty alleys, no parking lots that were deserted. People were everywhere and when they weren't somewhere, the vampires had taken over. Avery knew she wasn't going to find a place to sleep that night, so she kept wandering, waiting for the morning to come.  
  
She knew she could go back to Spike's crypt, she was sure he'd let her stay there but she wasn't sure she trusted herself around the vampire. He couldn't hurt anyone, but there was still something between them, an energy that she couldn't explain. It was something she didn't want to deal with, now or ever. Especially not after he had licked her blood off his fingers.  
  
"Avery!" She heard her name being called and turned toward the sound, seeing the blonde vampire chasing after her.   
  
"Not now." She groaned, then turned away from him and continued to walk.  
  
It took him a few minutes to catch up with her and when he did he grabbed her shoulder.   
  
"Spike, let go of me." Avery said, her voice calm and calculated.  
  
"No, I want to talk to you."  
  
"Sure you want that? Are you sure you don't want to bite me instead?" She retorted.  
  
Spike growled deep in his throat. "Would you just listen to me?"  
  
"Would you just let go of me?" She rolled her eyes. "God, just leave me alone. Get over yourself." She wrenched her arm from his grasp and began to walk away once again.  
  
"You're just going to walk away?" He asked. "Just like that? Leave me standing here with something to say to you."  
  
"I don't care what you have to say to me." She threw over her shoulder.  
  
"I think you do." Spike began to follow her. "I think you care a lot, but you're just too scared. Look, I don't know what happened to you Avery, but it's not me. You're scared of everything and everybody and you can't live like that."  
  
She stopped and turned to him again. "What would you know about living?"  
  
"I've done it for about one hundred and thirty more years than you have." Spike caught up to her once more. "Just because my heart doesn't beat or I don't breathe doesn't mean I haven't lived."  
  
"You breathe." Avery pointed out and Spike grinned.  
  
"It's a human habit I've never been able to break." He shook his head. "But I've lived. And running away from things isn't living. What happened? The Council didn't send you, did they?"  
  
"Why do you care? Why do you want to know about me?" She paused. "And why should I trust you?"  
  
"I care because I just do. I want to know about you because I care. And you should trust me because you can."  
  
Avery sighed "They sent me. Only I'm about two years too late. They wanted me to stop Faith when she started acting crazy, I was supposed to kill her."  
  
"You're not a slayer in training?"  
  
"Yeah, I am. But I'm also a paid assassin for the Council." Avery shrugged. "Sick Brits. Only problem with that job is that they don't pay you until its done and Faith never got done. The Council is pissed, Faith knows who I am and once she's out I'm scared she'll come for me. I never know who I can trust anymore Spike and with Buffy being mad about whatever she thinks she sees with me and you, I'm running out of people to help me."  
  
"I can help you." Spike told her. "You don't have to keep on running. You can stay with me."  
  
"What about Buffy? Don't you love her?"  
  
He paused, searching for an answer in the mess inside his head. "I don't know." He finally said. "That's as honest as I can be with you. I thought I did and now I just don't know. You've confused me." Spike smiled gently at her. "Will you come with me?"  
  
Avery looked downward, her eyes filled with worry. "Yeah, I guess so." She didn't smile when she looked at him. "This is scary."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"Two nights Spike. I've spent two nights with you and you've managed to make me trust you like I haven't trusted anyone in a long time."  
  
He brushed his finger against her arm. "And why is that scary?"  
  
A smile burst across her face. "Could be due to the fact that you're a vampire."  
  
He smiled back at her. "Could be. Let's go home."  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
As Spike prepared his bed for her, Avery watched him, wondering what she was doing in the basement portion of his crypt. He was talking, partly to himself, partly to her, but she wasn't really listening to him. She was just watching.  
  
He was leaning over, tucking a clean blanket in around the edges of the bed, lean fingers working quickly and efficiently. She could see tendons straining in his arms as he stretched, pushing the last bit of fabric under the edge of the bed. She could see his profile, could see the scar that split his eyebrow, his dark blue eyes and his amazing cheekbones. Wondering how he got that scar, Avery's eyes travelled on.  
  
His skin look so smooth and cool, pale marble building his arms and chest and neck. Where his throat disappeared into his tee shirt she could imagine the muscles that connected his neck to his shoulders, the wiry tension in the way he moved.  
  
"You okay love?" He asked suddenly, startling her.  
  
Avery glanced at him. "I'm fine. Just tired really . . . and looking forward to sleeping in a bed for the first time in weeks."  
  
Spike grimaced. "I don't like hearing that."  
  
She shrugged. "Sorry."  
  
He glanced back at the bed. "All clean. You just go ahead and change while I pop back upstairs and make sure there aren't any dirty things prowling about. You can get right to sleep if you're that tired."  
  
"I am." Avery stood up from the chair she was in, then glanced at her bag in disappointment. "I don't really have anything to sleep in . . . I've sorta been alternating the three outfits I have, none of them are really sleeping material."  
  
Spike shrugged. "No problem." He stepped over to a beat up dresser and opened one of the drawers. Rummaging around in the back he found a tee shirt that he had once worn. It was longer than most of the shirts he owned and he hoped she'd feel comfortable in it. "Think this'll do pet?"  
  
She caught the tee shirt when he threw it at her, the nodded. "Yeah, sure, it'll do."  
  
Spike tossed a grin her way, then headed up the stairs.  
  
Avery watched him go, then changed out of her clothes quickly and into the tee shirt he had supplied her with. Without blowing out the candles Spike had lit, she crawled into his bed and huddled down under the thick blankets. It was cold in his crypt and she wasn't really equipped for a cold night in a tee shirt. She tossed and turned for a few moments, then found a comfortable position and settled in. She had nearly drifted off to sleep when the blankets were lifted and a cool body slid in beside her.  
  
Avery's eyes opened slowly and she saw the back of Spike's head on the pillow next to her. He settled onto the bed and pulled the blankets back up around his shoulders.  
  
"I didn't know we were both going to sleep in the bed." She murmured uncomfortably.  
  
Spike turned over to look at her. "Well, where did you think I was going to sleep?"  
  
Avery shrugged. "Sorry . . . this is just kinda weird."  
  
"What's weird about it?" The vampire asking, settling down on his other side and stared at her. They were nearly nose to nose and Avery pulled back slightly.  
  
"Well . . . I don't know Spike, it just doesn't feel right."  
  
"Do you want me to find somewhere else to sleep?" He asked. "Because I guess can if you need me to."  
  
"No, no, it's okay." Avery nodded in confirmation. "It's fine. Really, I'll be okay."  
  
"Okay then. G'night pet." Spike murmured, then closed his eyes.  
  
"Night." Avery echoed and stared at the vampire. He had taken off his socks and tee shirt, wearing only his jeans now. His chest and stomach looked smooth and chiselled and Avery fought the urge to reach out and run her hand along his muscles. His hands were curled under his face, his arms so near her that she could lean forward and touch them. Wishing that he had to breathe, Avery waited until she was fairly certain he was asleep. With no even breath to tell her for sure, she gently reached out a hand and ran her finger tips along his arm. When Spike's eyes remained closed, she became braver and reached out to touch the smooth skin on his chest.  
  
Her hand pressed against him lightly, fluttering there for a moment, then she trailed her hand down. Over his muscular chest to his stomach, then back up to his side and shoulder. It was exactly like she'd imagined it, smooth and cold. The sensation of his dead skin under her fingers made her shiver and when he spoke she nearly screamed.  
  
"It's the same way for us." He whispered, his voice hoarse. "Your skin is so warm and inviting, it's hard for us not to want to touch a human."  
  
Avery withdrew her hand and stared at him. "Not sure what to say."  
  
Spike's eyes met hers and he tried a gentle smile. His hand touched her arm, sliding upward to her shoulder. His fingers were like ice, but her body heat melted the touch and warmed him slightly.  
  
"You know what feels even nicer?" He asked.   
  
Avery was silent for a long moment, then shook her head. Spike smiled again and nudged her gently. Reading what he wanted, she rolled onto her other side and moved back toward him. Her curved body fit against him nicely and she could feel his cool chest against her back. One of his arms crept over her side to close her in and Avery finally trusted herself to smile. She reached for his hand, entwining her fingers with his, then closed her eyes and realized she felt safer with him than she with anyone else.  
  
Spike breathed in her mild smell, the wind that he loved so much.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
Buffy stood in front of the Magick Box and glanced at her watch for the third time. It had only been two minutes since she'd last checked it but Anya was late, again. There were a few customers milling around outside, all impatiently checking their watches, all knowing the shop should have been opened almost ten minutes earlier.  
  
"Where is she?" Willow murmured, cupping her hands around her eyes and peeking through the window. "She's gotta be in there somewhere."  
  
"She should be." Buffy said. "Unless she's not, which is quite possible and then we've got some ticked off customers on our hands."  
  
Willow backed off, hands held up defensively. "I'm just another customer." She grinned. "I'm not dealing with them."  
  
The door flew open a second later and Anya stared out, smiling cheerfully. "Welcome to the Magick Box! Come in and buy many things." She looked at the slayer and witch. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late. A new shipment of rat's eyes came in this morning and I was just so busy unpacking them that I forgot I had to open the store. Then I smelled the money and it all came back to me."  
  
Willow smiled and stepped into the store. "So, a new shipment huh? Anything other than the eyes?"  
  
Anya nodded. "We got lots of witchy stuff in. Come look and spend lots of money." She led Willow away to show her the new things they had received as Buffy crept toward the back room.  
  
She slipped inside, hating that many of the customers were casting suspicious glances her way. She found it mildly offensive that they thought she looked like a thief. She saved their lives night after night and still they thought she was just some lousy kid.   
  
Trying to take her mind off the looks she had received, Buffy slipped off her jacket and placed it on the chair near the front of the room. Walking over to the punching bag, she stretched her muscles and touched her toes, working out the knots she could feel in her back. She started out lightly, punching and kicking the bag, hopping from side to side. As she worked, her anger started to grow.  
  
She was angry at Spike, for walking in on him the night before last and having him feed her some lame story about Avery trying to kill him. Buffy didn't understand what was going out between them, but she knew he was in love with her and recently, that had stopped seeming like such a bad thing. Lately she'd begun to find herself looking forward to her nightly visit to his crypt and thought he felt the same. But that night he had been staring at Avery like she was the last woman on earth, which she wasn't.   
  
Buffy had to admit that Avery was a beautiful woman, but that didn't change the fact that Spike already had a woman to stare at like that. He was as bad with slayers as Buffy found herself to be with vampires.   
  
She cringed when she thought that, reminding herself of the biggest fear she had about Spike. He was a vampire. She had done that, she didn't need to go through it again, it was always the same. But there was something different about him . . . he didn't have a soul, granted, but that didn't mean he wasn't good. Deep down she believed he had changed, chip in his head or not.  
  
Maybe it had been stupid of her to think that Spike was a one woman kind of vampire. He certainly seemed like the type to play around behind someone's back, that was the vibe he gave off. But Buffy knew different. As hard as she tried to convince herself that Spike was just that type of person, she knew he wasn't. She didn't know much about his life before he was a vampire, but she knew he'd been in love. It had only been one woman for him.   
  
And when Drusilla had been in his life, he had spent centuries with her and never once had he turned away. He had never found another woman to court behind her back, he had always been true to her.   
  
So, if Spike wasn't the type to play around on women, then there really was only one explanation for his behaviour. Buffy had been wrong, he didn't love her at all. With that thought lingering in her head she slammed her fist into the punching bag, causing it to rock violently on the reinforced chains that Giles had installed after she had broken them once.  
  
The thought of Giles just brought up another torrent of pain for Buffy and she pulled back her fist and slammed it into the punching back one last time.  
  
"Quite the punch you've got there." Avery said from the door, watching the punching bag swing back and forth. "Lesson number one; anger makes you stronger."  
  
"I'm not angry." Buffy stated, then grabbed a towel and mopped the sweat from her brow.  
  
"Yes you are." Avery told her. "And don't try to argue. I can tell." Without waiting for a reply, the slayer in training pulled her sweatshirt over her head and glanced at Buffy. "And yes, this is still the way I dress to work out, whether you like it or not. So, where do we begin?"  
  
"Uh . . ." Buffy paused, "you know, maybe we should have waited a few days, let me prepare something else for training. I've never really done this before."  
  
"No kidding." Avery shot back. "Couldn't tell . . . really." She paused. "You did fine yesterday, even if you do hate me."  
  
Buffy ignored her comment and continued, "Well, Giles used to do this exercise with me for precision, so maybe we can do that."  
  
"Sure, just tell me where to go." Avery bounced on the heels of her feet and waited for instruction.  
  
"You go over there," Buffy said, pointing to a mat across the room from her, "and I stand over here and throw knives at you."  
  
"Whoa, wait a second. You're gonna be throwing knives at me? I don't know if I like that I idea."   
  
"You have to trust the person who's training you."  
  
Avery snorted. "Why should I? You're obviously pissed."  
  
Buffy stared at her. "I'm not pissed."  
  
"Yes you are. God, we went through this not five minutes ago and I told you not to argue and you didn't." Avery rolled her eyes. "You're pissed. I don't know if it's at me, or your watcher for leaving you or just the world in general but you are mad. And I don't trust an angry person with a knife."  
  
"Better get used to it." Buffy replied, taking a knife from the display case beside her. "Because it seems I get angry whenever I'm around you." She drew her arm back and threw the knife as hard as she could as Avery.  
  
The younger woman spun into a high kick that knocked the knife off course, but when her foot came down she was fuming. "What the hell are you doing? I said I didn't want to do this exercise, you can't force me to do it."  
  
"Watch me." Buffy replied, throwing another knife at her.  
  
Avery slapped it away with her fist and glared at Buffy. "This isn't funny."  
  
"It's not supposed to be." She said, then aimed the knife directly at her face.  
  
Avery managed to knock the knife away for a third time, but she wasn't ready for the one that came right after that. It slammed through her chest, buried up to the hilt and Buffy wasn't ready for the agonizing scream that followed the impact.  
  
"Oh God!" Buffy cried, running toward her. "Oh my God, are you okay?"  
  
"I have a knife in my chest." Avery hissed at her. "Do you think I'm okay?"  
  
Willow pushed open the door and ran in. "I heard a scream, are you okay Buffy?"  
  
"She's fine," Avery growled from where she lay, "Buffy's just fine. She's not the one who was just stabbed, was she?"  
  
Buffy backed away. "Will, I didn't mean to. I just kept throwing the knives at her and she made me so angry and . . ." she trailed off, looking horrified with herself, then turned and fled, leaving Willow along with Avery.  
  
"Hey, lemme take a look at it." Willow murmured, kneeling beside the other girl. "I can probably fix it no problem."  
  
"How?" Avery asked.  
  
Willow smiled. "Little bit of magick can fix almost anything."  
  
Avery stared at her for a long moment. "There is a such thing as using too much magick, you know."  
  
Willow's jaw dropped and she backed away slightly. "What? I mean, did Buffy tell you?"  
  
"Tell me about what?"  
  
"N-never mind. Uh, does that mean you don't want me to fix it?"  
  
"Not with magick. If you keep doing that people are gonna get really angry and probably really scared. You don't need magick for everything."  
  
Willow stood up. "Just shut up, okay? Just stop talking." Her mouth was set in a hard, straight line. "Just . . ." she turned without finishing her sentence and followed Buffy from the room.  
  
Avery coughed, staring at the knife in her chest, then stood up. She picked up her sweatshirt to cover the handle sticking out of her body, then found the back door and disappeared into the sunlight. 


	4. Chapter 4

Spike was watching a game show of some sort when Avery banged into his crypt and sat beside him on the tomb. Her breathing was ragged and shallow and he suddenly noticed the sallow tone to her skin.  
  
"Avery? Hey, pet? You okay?"  
  
She turned to look at him, her eyes lifeless and glassy, tried to say something and promptly passed out.  
  
"Oh God." Spike leapt up and laid Avery out gently on top of the tomb. He pulled at the sweater she had slung over her shoulder, then realized why she had just passed out. Spike dropped the sweatshirt onto the ground and stared at the dagger that was buried in her chest. He thought it was too high to have hit any major organs, but her entire left side was covered in sticky blood, he had no way of knowing how much she'd lost.  
  
"Oh shit, oh shit . . ." he murmured, pacing the crypt. He couldn't go anywhere to find a blood transfusion for her, no way of knowing her blood type and no way of getting her to a hospital in the middle of the day. "What am I gonna do?"  
  
She coughed, waking up for a moment, bringing blood up into her throat. "Spike." She groaned, her head rolling back and forth on the tomb.  
  
"Yeah? I'm here pet, I'm trying to figure out a way to help you." He promised her. "I won't let you get sick."  
  
"If I don't get to a hospital, I'm going to die." Avery whispered.  
  
"Don't say that. You don't know that."  
  
"I've lost too much blood, I need . . . I need a doctor."  
  
Spike paced the crypt. "What happened? Who did this to you?"  
  
Avery began to cough, blood spraying from her mouth. Finally she spoke, "Buffy."  
  
Buffy. The name shot through Spike like a bullet, shattering anything that he had once felt for her. The slayer, the one person in all the world who was sworn to protect people had stabbed Avery.  
  
"We . . . we were training and a knife . . . I couldn't block it." She coughed again, violently this time and Spike froze, listening to her.  
  
"Buffy." He repeated.  
  
"I-it wasn't her fault. She got scared and left me. I came here."  
  
"Stop talking love." Spike said, leaning over her. "I'll get you help, I promise."  
  
Avery reached out and grabbed his arm. "I can't make it to a hospital. This knife has to come out."  
  
Spike nodded, then grabbed a tee shirt from a pile near the tomb. Holding it near the knife, he grabbed the handle and glanced at Avery. Her face was a mask of pain, but her eyes were clear now, staring through him. Spike looked away and pulled the knife out of her chest, then pressed the tee shirt down over it. Avery's eyes snapped back into focus as she screamed in pain.   
  
Having pulled out the knife, Spike tossed it to the ground then placed Avery's hands over the tee shirt that was soaking up her blood.  
  
"Do you trust me pet?" He asked, looking into her eyes.  
  
"You know I do." She replied, her breathing becoming shallow once more.  
  
Forcing the tears from his eyes, Spike leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. They were warm and soft under his and although brief, he poured as much as he could into that kiss. He felt her radiating beneath him and broke off the kiss, then kissed her once more and moved away.  
  
"Close your eyes love." He said to her. "Please remember that this was the only way. I don't know what you'll be like when you wake up, but I did all I could."  
  
Avery's eyes shut slowly, his kiss still burning her lips, his smell clinging to her.   
  
"Hold on just a little longer. I love you." She heard him whisper in the dark.   
  
Spike watched her from above, then, without a sound, he slipped into his vampire visage. He knew his head would feel like it was going to explode but he had to do this, he had to help her. Leaning down, Spike closed his eyes, tightened his grip on the tomb, then sunk his fangs into her throat.   
  
The pain was blinding, more hurtful than anything he'd ever felt. It scorched his brain, spread fire down his face and into his chest. It spread further than it ever had before. Through the blinding haze he felt Avery thrash beneath him and wished he could tell her it was going to be okay, she would live.  
  
He drank from her, trying to manage the pain and waiting for her heart to stop. He could hear it now, like he had pressed his ear to her chest and he waited. His head burned with pain and fire and still he drank, waiting for the last beat. It came finally and he broke away from her, hearing no more and the blaze in his head calmed slightly.  
  
Staggering to his feet Spike ripped open his wrist and let his blood drip into Avery's mouth. It stained her lips red, dripping down her chin and into her mouth. Spike waited, squeezing more blood into her, he waited for the pain in his head to go away and waited for her to awaken. He sat beside her for three hours, not realizing the time that had gone by, his head pounding and his heart breaking every second that went by that she didn't wake up.  
  
When his headache was finally gone Spike stood up and paced his crypt. He sat in the armchair near the television, then stood up again. He paced more, then went to stand by Avery's side. He watched her, staring intently at her serene face, he wished for an instant that he hadn't done what he had. He wished he had just let her go the natural way.  
  
As he was staring at her, her eyelids fluttered. Spike paused, staring at her, wondering if it was just a trick of the eye, his brain making him see what he wanted so badly. He watched her, waiting for it to happen again.   
  
Her eyes opened suddenly, staring blankly out at him. Slowly they registered his face and slowly Avery sat up on the tomb. She looked around the crypt, then her eyes settled on Spike again.  
  
"How do you feel?" He asked.  
  
"Hungry." Avery said, eyes wide. "Why didn't you tell me what this was like? Why didn't you let me know how . . . how exhilarating this was?"  
  
"Because it doesn't compare to being warm and alive." Spike stated.  
  
Avery looked at him. "You're kidding me, right? This feeling of immortality is incredible." She drew in a deep breath. "I don't need to do that. I didn't need that air."  
  
"Avery, I did it so that you could go on living. I did it so we could have a life together."  
  
She glanced at him, looked him over and grinned. "Dream on pet. Whatever life you and Avery could have had was gone the minute you gave me life."  
  
Spike's shoulder slumped. "I didn't know what you'd be like. I couldn't."  
  
She swung her legs off the tomb and wrapped them around Spike's hips. "This is what I'm like baby. Take it or leave it."  
  
Spike couldn't find the words to express the sorrow he felt. He thought in turning Avery he had saved her and instead he had just created a monster. Part of him knew that turning her had been a selfish gesture, wanting to preserve her life in order to share his immortality, but Spike pushed that away. He gently unwrapped her legs from his waist and began to walk away.   
  
"I don't want to see you here when I get back." He said simply.  
  
"Or what?" Avery called from the tomb. "Come on baby! You know you want me."  
  
Spike turned back to look at her sadly. "I did. I even loved you, but this . . . this isn't you."  
  
"Don't I have a soul Spike? Didn't you say if I enjoyed it, it meant I had a soul?"  
  
He shook his head. "No you Avery. Yours was lost." Then he turned away again and left the crypt, closing the door gently behind him. Tears spilled over in his eyes and coursed down his cheeks, torrents of pain being freed from his body. He should have known this would happen, he shouldn't have been so stupid.  
  
"Spike?" The soft voice came from in front of him, so he knew it wasn't Avery. Looking up he could barely see the slayer through his tears.  
  
*This is all her fault.* He reminded himself. *Avery was going to die because of her.*  
  
"Spike, are you crying?" She sounded ready to laugh.  
  
"Sod off slayer." He growled angrily, beginning to walk away.  
  
Buffy immediately sobered. "Spike, what's wrong?"  
  
"Avery had a knife in her chest. That's what's wrong." He turned on her. "Want to explain to me how that happened slayer?"  
  
"I did it." Buffy told him. "I didn't mean to, but it happened and I came to find her. I wanted to apologize and see how she was."  
  
Spike stared at her, disbelief painting his face. "She's dead Buffy. She lost too much blood because you ran away from her and now she's nothing but a corpse. So how the bloody hell is your goddamn apology gonna make that better?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"She died!"  
  
"Is that supposed to be funny?" Buffy asked.  
  
Spike gaped at her. "Why would I find that funny?" He asked. "Why would you say that?"  
  
Buffy pointed toward his crypt. "Because she's standing right there."  
  
Spike turned to find Avery leaning against the door of his home, smiling out at him. There was a dangerous glint in her eye and suddenly Spike was afraid.  
  
"Avery!" Buffy called to her. "Are you okay?"  
  
The other girl came forward, stumbled slightly, then walked toward Buffy. Tears welled up in her eyes as she neared them. "Buffy . . . I'm so glad you're here. Spike tried to," she gasped for breath, forcing the tears from her eyes, "he tried to kill me."  
  
The slayer turned angry green eyes in the vampire's direction as he held up his hands defensively.  
  
"Avery," he breathed, "please don't do this."  
  
Collapsing into Buffy's arms, Avery began to cry, shuddering sobs that wracked her entire body. The slayer held her tight, murmuring soothing words into her ear and glaring at Spike all the while.  
  
He kept shaking his head helplessly and was looking at the ground when Buffy cried out and pushed Avery away.  
  
She was in full vampire face, blood clinging to the tips of her fangs. Buffy was holding her neck and looking at her in fear. Then suddenly, an understanding came across her face.  
  
"Spike, how could you do this to her? How could you?"  
  
"I thought you hated her!" He yelled.  
  
"I don't hate her! And even if I did you have no right to do something like this to a person." Buffy stared at him in disgust. "I thought you had changed."  
  
"Oh, he has," Avery said, "he slept with me last night, holding me close and making me feel safe. He loved me. But you killed me Buffy, you ruined our relationship."  
  
The slayer glanced back and forth between the two of them helplessly.  
  
"We could have had everything, but you tore it away from us." Avery glanced slyly in Spike's direction. "We could still have everything, if you come with me. If you help me kill her."  
  
Spike swallowed hard, then nodded. "I'll do it." He said. "I've waited so long for something like this to happen. Let's kill her together."  
  
Avery smiled, genuinely smiled for the first time since she had woken up in Spike's crypt. Her eyes lit up with an obscene pleasure that Spike remembered from two nights ago, a time that seemed so far away. She took two steps forward, reached for Buffy and grabbed her by the throat. The slayer was unmoving, sensing something, knowing Spike had a plan of some sort.  
  
Spike flashed an encouraging grin at Avery and stepped toward her, closing the distance between him and Buffy to almost nothing. One of his hands stroked the back of Buffy's neck in a disturbing way that caused her to shudder. Avery smiled at this.  
  
Spike leaned forward and kissed Avery gently on the forehead. "I did love you." He whispered. "It might have only been two nights, but I loved you." His hand slid off Buffy's neck and slowly found its way into his duster. He kissed Avery again, this time on the cheek, trying to avoid her mouth full of fangs. He didn't want to remember her that way. His lips pressed against her face, wishing he could feel her warm skin just one more time and he drew her close, pulling his hand out of his jacket at the same time.   
  
As Avery leaned into him, Spike closed his eyes and thrust the stake forward, hearing it crunch through bone and strain through muscle. He didn't open his eyes, didn't want to see her dissolve into dust. He waited until he could no longer feel her in his arms, then opened his eyes and tucked the stake away.  
  
Buffy coughed gently. "Thanks Spike."  
  
"Can you not speak to me?" He asked. "I've had a bloody rotten night and I'd just like to head back to the crypt and watch a little telly."  
  
She nodded. "Yeah. Are . . . are things ever going to be right with us again?"  
  
The vampire stared at her, trying to find what he once loved about those green eyes. Instead he found himself wishing that they were a deep blue. Slowly he looked down. "I don't know slayer. Right now it's not and I can't see the future."  
  
Spike watched her for a moment longer and shrugged. Letting out a long, deep breath he turned and began to walk back to his crypt. Buffy watched him go, wondering how much her life could change in only two days.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
Spike sat on the edge of the bed he had shared with her and put his head in his hands. Her open duffle bag was at his feet and he reached into it, pulling out the tee shirt she had worn the night before. Pressing his face into it, he breathed in, taking in the smell that he knew would only last for so long. Eventually it would fade from her clothes and he would have nothing left of her.  
  
The tee shirt smelled deeply like her, the scent embedded in the fibres and Spike pulled off his own tee shirt and slipped the one she had worn over his head. He curled up in his bed and buried his face into the front of the shirt. He fell asleep, imaging she was there and feeling the faint tickle and scent of a wind that had come off the ocean.  
  
  
  
The End 


End file.
